


Comic Con Inspired

by crazyrayray113



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Slash, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2013-11-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 04:01:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyrayray113/pseuds/crazyrayray113
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of Hall H at the San Diego Comic Con, Tom receives a visit from the God of Mischief.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comic Con Inspired

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as an entry for a smutty contest over at naughylokiconfessions.tumblr.com. I probably wouldn’t have posted this personally, but I won a prize for it so it can’t be that bad. We need more Tomki regardless! So consider it a warm up for hopefully many more (better and more story driven) Tomki fics :D

The response had been astounding. In spite of Loki’s apparent popularity as a character, it never ceased to amaze him. Seven thousand people in that room and every single one of them seemed to hang on his every word, even to the point of absolute silence at his very whim. It was remarkably empowering and more than he’d ever imagined. Tom was rather proud of the speech he’d put together and he found it ever so fitting, though he hadn’t been expecting them to start chanting his name long before he asked. Once more, they surprised him.

As the footage began to play, Tom retreated backstage again, but with no hope to escape this adrenalin high. He could still hear them screaming and applauding long after he’d disappeared. Loki’s name still floated across the enormous space, uttered by the masses – whispered – adored. It warmed him to an unseen degree. If only they knew what it really did for him. No, not for him. For Loki. While their praises and downright worship were endearing and flattering, to Loki it meant so much more. Ever since encountering the god in person, Tom had taken up this crusade to prove him wrong in all of his dismal and self-loathing assumptions. He believed that not a single person in all the realms would ever favor him over his brother. So far, they were both equally pleased with the results. And today’s event spoke volumes of that success.

Tom wondered briefly if he would be more aggravated that he’d been wrong or simply appreciatively aloof – as per usual. _Several thousand mortals, you say? It should have been millions._ But Tom knew better than anyone that such belittlement was only his way of saying thanks. Although that was a bit of a stretch at times. Actually, it may have only been wishful thinking. In any case, Loki was well loved. And that was an accomplishment regardless of his reaction.

After countless words of praise on behalf of his friends and coworkers and interviewers and photographers and hundreds of other people he didn’t know, he finally escaped and hurried back to his dressing room, or rather, the room that was designated for the preparations of this secret stunt. It was a fight to assure his attendants and make-up artists that he could handle this on his own. He was only half certain he could, but after all of _that_ , he just needed a few minutes alone. Thanking his posse yet again, he finally got the door shut and locked and the silence was absolute bliss. Walking out on that stage, he’d been hit with a wall of sound. His ears were still ringing. He expected to be living with that discomfort for some time.

With a thoroughly relieving sigh, he hung against the counter top letting his back stretch as far as the costume would allow. It was only partially forgiving. The weight and the heat had always been the worst of it. Confinement was only a tiny thorn in his side in comparison to the ensemble as a whole. Loki always spoke of it in jest. His clothes were often real chainmail and metal armor as opposed to his own which was a very realistic resin mockery. What Loki failed to acknowledge was that his was created for practicality and comfort. His was made only for show.

He raised his head again to meet his reflection in the mirror that ran the length of the counter. It was startling on occasion, how uncanny their resemblance while he was in costume. If he made the right expression, it gave him chills to see the God of Mischief staring back at him. Running a hand through his hair, feeling the chaotic curly mess. His wig would never compare to Loki’s subtly wavy, raven black hair. Nor would he ever get used to seeing himself with long, dark hair. But on most days, he found more than one way to appreciate such pleasant reminders.

“That was a lovely performance, Thomas.”

Unfortunately Loki didn’t appear in the mirror until after he’d already been effectively startled by the god standing not an arm’s length behind him. He grinned wildly, watching Tom attempt to rein in his mini heart attack. “Must you do that?” Loki quirked an eyebrow as if it were obvious. Honestly, he found it far too much fun seeing Tom flustered. “So you were watching that?” Tom asked, finally catching his train of thought.

“I’m always watching,” Loki said smoothly.

As always, it was comforting and creepy. Especially considering he most likely wasn’t exaggerating. “What did you think of the response?” Tom asked, barely withholding his grin.

“You mortals are so easily riled into a frenzy. Especially your following.”

“It wasn’t my name they were screaming,” Tom noted, his grin a full-fledged smile now. That point got under Loki’s skin like nothing else. He could flawlessly maintain an empty façade, while the god writhed in barely contained irritation. But Loki merely quirked an eyebrow, a silent challenge accepted, one Tom would most likely regret initiating.

Loki took several slow, measured steps forward. And then he leaned closer, until he had thoroughly invaded his personal space. The space they had come to share. “So tell me, Thomas, was I your inspiration?” His long, pale fingers traced Tom’s cheekbones, tenderly brushing a few black hairs behind his ear. Tom shivered as his fingers followed the crook of his neck down to the armor that covered his chest.

“Of course,” he managed quietly. “If I am pretending to be you, I could hardly be inspired by anything else.”

Loki pressed closer, almost purring so near to his skin. “And the speech was of your own creation?” Tom nodded. “A little provocative, wouldn’t you say, Thomas?”

“Your army is insatiable,” Tom continued, clearing his throat. “I thought only to take more obvious note of it.”

Loki laughed, low and quiet, his breath cool against Tom’s neck. “Always a crowd pleaser. Always a performer. And it would seem, your little charade has won their affections quite entirely. Honestly, if you could hear some of the things they say – what they whisper among each other. They would claim their loyalty without question, if you take my meaning.” Tom knew full well. Loki suddenly braced the back of his neck, drawing him to where his lips barely brushed Tom’s. He stumbled, leaning hard on the counter behind him as Loki further advanced. And his touch turned aggressive in a second as he dragged Tom forward by his collar to entirely smother his mouth. “But you are mine, Thomas,” he growled, dragging his kiss down Tom’s exposed throat. “And no matter how much they claim to love and adore you, you will always be mine. _My precious mortal_.”

Loki punctuated that remark with a less-than-gentle bite to his neck. He laved at the mark he had left, working back up to his jaw so painfully slow. His blood spiked as Loki pressed them chest-to-chest, one leather clad leg parting his, the tailcoats tangling around them. Having been so suddenly intoxicated, he’d almost forgotten he was even wearing the costume. But Loki promptly reminded him. “I hate it when you’re dressed like me,” he said bluntly. “I’d rather not feel like I’m fucking myself.”

Tom shivered feeling that familiar spike of warmth in his stomach. He moaned softly as Loki covered his mouth again, his tongue already permitting itself entrance. He felt Loki’s fingers fighting to find the edge of his wig. When he finally found it, he quickly freed his mess of thick brown hair. And despite being thoroughly dampened with sweat, he twined his fingers in the curls until his nails raked against his scalp. With his free hand, aided by magic, he rubbed the thick layer of make up from his face until he was back to his bare skin again. And then he began to shed the costume, one piece after another as Loki skillfully freed him from the overly layered and complex costume. _Fortunately._ Tom would have destroyed it in his efforts to free himself from it.

The armor was first, the bracers clattering off to the outskirts of the small room. Soon the heavy leather trench coat had pooled at their feet. He unclasped the tunic next, slowly working off the sleeves until he could pull the entire thing over his head. Tom sighed with the sudden relief, lounging back against the counter. Loki approached him again, as Tom hung his head back on his shoulders. He felt a hundred times lighter already. Loki braced the edge of the counter on either side of him, leering over him, eyes half lidded. “Have you missed me, Thomas?”

“Yes,” Tom breathed. He traced the lines of Loki’s tunic with hands that were almost shaking. After all this time, Loki could always reduce him to this. “So much,” he smiled, lacing his hands around Loki’s clothed waist. He grinned, hooking his fingers on Tom’s trousers, twiddling the laces and gently pressing him closer. “Why do you insist on undressing me? Your magic does the same thing almost instantly.”

Loki tugged harder on the ties now. “Because I love watching you – as you lose your sanity – one – garment – at a time.” Word by word, he undid the laces and slipped a single hand inside, his cool flesh chilling Tom’s thigh. His fingers curled to his inner thigh, before they gingerly – almost mistakenly – brushed the base of his cock. “You did miss me,” he grinned as Tom continued to harden in his grip. His touch suddenly disappeared as Tom continued to create a symphony of delicious noises. Loki’s fingers tugged at the edge of his pants, slowly working them over his hips until they joined the rest of his costume on the floor. “Much better.”

Tom nodded absently in agreement, happy to be out of that damned costume regardless of the circumstance. But Loki shortly reminded him of the more gratifying relief. He pressed forward again, slowly coming to rest his still clothed hips against Tom’s very bare front. His hands wandered up his sides and Tom squirmed as he thoughtlessly disturbed a few ticklish spots. Tom dragged his fingers through the god’s thick black hair. He nestled into the crook of his neck, savoring the scent that was solely his. Something like evergreens or fresh snow. His hands traced the curve of Loki’s jaw, dragging him into a heated kiss and keeping him there for as long as he could before the god seized control again. And he would. Loki’s fingers followed the curve of his spine all the way down again until his grip settled on the curve of his ass. He grinned, biting at Tom’s bottom lip before hoisting him onto the countertop with his usual alien grace.

Loki stood between his legs, leaning over him but purposefully neglecting Tom’s obvious arousal.  He trailed kisses across his chest, forced him backward until his back hit the mirror. He gently nibbled and teased his nipples in passing, following the subtle tone of his abdomen almost all the way down. Tom whined in protest when he stopped just short. Loki laughed, the sound giving him goose bumps. He pecked Tom’s cheek with an impish grin. “Not to worry, love. I have other things planned for you.”

His hands moved to the underside of thighs dragging him to the edge until his shoulders stuck against the mirror, his head coming to rest with a light _thunk_ shortly after. He pressed upward until Tom’s knees were nearly flush against his chest. Loki’s dexterous fingers teased the thin line of hair just below his navel. The god watched with a widening smile as he dragged a single finger up his swollen length and Tom’s mouth dropped open, his breathless moan smothered by such a tiny space. Loki squeezed the tip, coating his fingers with precum before probing for his entrance. Tom’s hands suddenly braced his shoulders, his fingernails leaving half crescent marks in his back even through his leather tunic as one of Loki’s fingers pressed into him. Loki smiled, placing gentle kisses along his jaw before stealing him in another open-mouthed kiss. And all the while Tom moaned almost pathetically as he added a second, slowly stretching him. _Far too slowly._

“Do you _ache and hunger_ for me, Thomas?” Tom moaned into his mouth, an indiscernible sound among saliva and Loki’s tortuous tongue. “Answer me,” he growled, parting just enough for his lover to breathe.

“Yes,” he gasped as Loki’s fingers continued their crusade.

Tom’s hips lifted high off the counter as Loki forced two more fingers inside simultaneously, the angle allowing him that much deeper. And he thoughtfully worked him open until Tom was begging him to fill the space he’d created. “Please, Loki – please. I’m ready – I need you – _please._ ”

“So eager,” Loki hissed. Nevertheless, he slipped his hand free and then whisked his clothing away with a single gesture. He brought the tip of his already solid length to rest at his entrance, before pressing a teasing kiss to his temple. And then he slipped forward one painstaking inch at a time until he was buried to the hilt. Tom sighed breathlessly, his hands blindly groping for anything he could reach. But he was only coherent enough to brace the edge of the counter as Loki suddenly surged into him at an unrelenting pace.

 “Oh gods – Loki – you feel amazing.”

“And you as well, Thomas – my beautiful mortal,” he said with a particularly rough thrust. Tom’s hands maintained a white-knuckled grip on the counter edge. His sweaty back stuck against the mirror. It pulled at his reddening flesh as Loki roughly fucked him against it.

His hands clutched at him anywhere he could reach as he further forced his weight on him, slowly folding him in half. But he stopped short before that delicious friction found his aching cock. Tom whined as Loki eased off, resting his forehead to his. He felt Loki grin – that absolutely menacing smile. “Thomas,” he breathed into his ear. Tom groaned, hips undulating desperately for any friction at all. ‘Thomas,” Loki called again.

“What?” he finally managed.

“Touch yourself.” Tom shivered. Loki found his hand and guided it to his cock, languidly wrapping his fingers around it. “Thomas, touch yourself – I want to see you come for me.” Loki gave him one long stroke punctuated with a sudden thrust that had Tom arching high from the glass. Finally he took himself in his hand, stroking in time to Loki’s pace as he brought them shortly back to speed until the wet slap of his ass meeting Loki’s hips superseded everything else.

“Loki-” Tom squeezed his eyes shut as his muscles continued to tighten, the sensation forcing his eyes into the back of his head. “Loki – I can’t-”

“Open your eyes, Thomas.” His smooth voice was reduced to a mere growl. He took him by the jaw, slowing in his movements nearly to a halt until he obeyed. “That’s right. You wouldn’t want to miss the finale of your greatest performance,” Loki grinned, tightening his hold on Tom’s jaw. “ _Mortal_ ,” he hissed. “Feast your eyes.” Loki angled his head so that he stared down at the wall length mirror, the image of himself being utterly ravished by his god as visceral as the act itself. He watched intently through the fog that had formed on the mirror as Loki continued to pound into him, forcing him higher off the counter every time. The bodies were reduced to writhing mess of pale flesh. Loki grinned, watching the reflection from the corner of his eye. “My beautiful mortal,” he cooed. Loki’s measured gait soon turned ragged and his expression of pure ecstasy and barely withstanding restraint nearly drove him over the edge. He watched himself stroke his aching cock with equal vigor. He was so damn close.

“I can give you what you need,” Loki said gruffly.

“Please,” Tom begged, his voice already hoarse.

“Claim your loyalty, Thomas,” he breathed against the shell of his ear. Another moan escaped him as Loki’s lips marked his unforgivably sensitive neck. “Come on, pledge allegiance to your king.” Still he couldn’t find words, only an unending symphony of gasps and groans and half utterances. “Answer me!”

“Yes, Loki! I’m yours. Only yours!”

“Say my name.”

“Loki-”

His next thrust nearly folded him in half, the angle so deep that Tom saw stars as Loki rubbed insistently on his prostate. “Say my name!”

“Loki!”

“ _Say my name!_ ”

With one last thrust, Tom was coming, a high keening noise in the shape of Loki’s name escaping his lips as he emptied onto his stomach. Pleasure blanked his mind and he collapsed against the sweat-slicked mirror as Loki thrust once more before spilling his seed as deep as he possibly could.

Full and sated and content, he’d nearly forgotten his own name, even as Loki’s continued to pass his swollen lips in half whispers audible to no one.

Loki slid out, quickly – instantly – redressing before cleaning Tom of the mess they’d created. “My beautiful mortal,” he whispered, kissing him gently, drawing him back to the living world again.

“I love you,” Tom said as he managed to sit up again, his entire body a most pleasurable ache. “I love you.”

Loki smiled, hoisting Tom back to his feet before promptly dressing him in his more casual attire. Tom had finally taken note of the noise outside the room. He wondered briefly if anyone had heard what had just transpired between them, but Loki ordinarily ensured otherwise. One way or another his publicist and any number of other authority figures would be soon to fetch him. In his post coital haze, he wanted nothing more than to sleep – to find himself awake sometime tomorrow with Loki at his side, their limbs thoughtlessly tangled in his favorite embrace. But the promotion events for their latest film had only just begun.

“I’ll still be watching,” Loki said, snapping him from his thoughts.

Tom’s smile blossomed at the very thought. He twined their fingers together as he managed to steal one last kiss. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 


End file.
